


If Only For One Night

by superrich



Series: What Happens on Hiatus [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Australia, Birthday Fluff, Birthday Party, Harry's Birthday, Los Angeles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 00:06:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6215698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superrich/pseuds/superrich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Niall! Not sure where you are right now or where you’re going to be next week, but I’m having a party for my birthday, just a small one, and, you know, I’d love for you to be there.  I think maybe you’re already in Australia? But I’ll send you the details, just in case. Hope you’re enjoying the *hiatus*! Mark says hi, by the way.”</p><p>Niall waits until he lands in Melbourne before replying – via text, and a string of emoji, just because he knows how much Harry hates them. Sorry mate ! already in Oz. *Australian flag emoji* *koala emoji* *surfing emoji* *tennis ball emoji* *beer emoji* hope it’s a cracker ! And then he puts all thoughts of Harry out of his mind. Until he can't any more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Only For One Night

**Author's Note:**

> Really just Niall and Harry being cute together. I wonder if they miss each other as much as I miss the two of them being cute together. The song referenced is [Throw Your Arms Around Me by Hunters & Collectors](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e69wQsfrbSU)

Niall gets the invite as he’s waiting in the Qantas first class lounge at LAX, ready to board his flight to Melbourne. It’s a WhatsApp voice message, which means he has to dig around in his backpack for his headphones and plug them into his phone before he can listen to it. Why can’t Harry just use text and emoji, like a normal person?

“Niall! Not sure where you are right now or where you’re going to be next week, but I’m having a party for my birthday, just a small one, and, you know, I’d love for you to be there. I think maybe you’re already in Australia? But I’ll send you the details, just in case. Hope you’re enjoying the *hiatus*! Mark says hi, by the way.”

Niall chuckles at Harry’s ‘hiatus’ – whenever any of them say that word now, it automatically comes out in robot app voice. And then he sighs. Bloody Harry. Harry, who didn’t even come to Las Vegas for Niall’s birthday. Not that Niall’s still bitter about that. It’s just that Harry has been keeping his distance from the other boys for a while now, outside of official band commitments. He thinks about asking Liam if he’s going to go, and then he wonders if Liam and Louis are even invited.

He waits until he lands in Melbourne before replying – via text, and a string of emoji, just because he knows how much Harry hates them. _Sorry mate ! already in Oz. *Australian flag emoji* *koala emoji* *surfing emoji* *tennis ball emoji* *beer emoji* hope it’s a cracker !_ And then he puts all thoughts of Harry out of his mind. Which is surprisingly easy to do when the sun is shining, the days are long, the beach is beckoning, and some of his best mates are there to fold him into their lives in Melbourne, and pretend that Niall really is just a normal Irish lad on holiday down under.

A week slips by in a pleasant summer haze of afternoon beers and barbecues and cricket matches and a little road trip down the coast to a friend of a friend’s beach house on a hilltop overlooking Lorne. One of the best things about Australia, Niall thinks, is that all your cares just seem to slip away when you’re there, so far removed from the rest of the world.

He only realises that the History music video has been released when he gets a message from his ma with a link to the video, asking how many One Direction members it takes to pee in a port-a-loo. Jesus Christ, he thinks, what have they put in there? He clicks through to YouTube and tries to watch the video on his phone, but lying by the pool at the beach house, even under a sun umbrella, it’s too glary to see much of anything. He goes inside to grab his laptop, flops on the bunk bed in the room he’s sharing with his mates, and pulls up the video.

Ben had shown him a rough cut before he’d left LA, but this is the first time he’s seen the final version. It’s the first time he’s seen a bunch of the clips they’ve included, and Niall can’t help but grin stupidly at the boys they were, and the men they’ve become. He watches it three more times, so many emotions welling up inside of him with each new view. It’s nice to see Zayn smiling, to remember there were times when Zayn was genuinely happy in the band, even if Zayn seems to have forgotten them himself. But mostly it’s Harry he keeps pausing on, or the two of them together, really, and it hits Niall hard just how much he misses him.

The next thing he knows, he’s looking up flights and trying to work out the time difference and what happens when you cross the international date line from this direction and if he can even still get to LA in time for the party. The last minute, first class ticket costs more than his da earns in a year, and he feels a little ill as he types in his credit card details (and a little amazed, still, that he has a credit limit high enough to even be able to pay for the flights. Thank Christ for black AMEX). And then he’s stuffing clothes in his backpack and calling out to Deo, begging him for a ride back to Melbourne – with a promise that he’ll be gone for just a few days, and back in time for the tennis.

The beach traffic heading back to the city is terrible and he’s late to check-in for the flight, but for once Niall doesn’t feel bad about getting VIP treatment as the Qantas staff reopen the flight manifest to get him on board. First class does have its perks. He sleeps most of the way to LA, and manages to slip through LAX without any paps or fans catching him. This is going to be a proper surprise, he chuckles to himself, as he sinks into the back seat of the town car he booked from the tarmac in Melbourne. He has just enough time to stop by his house, shower and change, and then he’s in his Range Rover cruising west on Sunset towards Beverly Hills.

It’s only when he’s checking in with the security guards outside Harry’s house that Niall starts to second guess himself. Harry said it was just going to be a small party, but judging from the number of cars outside, it looks like there are hundreds of people here already. Hundreds of intimidatingly cool people at that, he thinks, as he enters the party. Niall’s used to being around celebrities by now, but he never feels like he quite fits in with Harry’s friends, all indie rockers and film stars and models and famous people’s kids. Christ, what was he thinking, flying all the way here? He’ll be lucky to get a minute with Harry.

He swallows down that feeling with a shot of tequila, and then another one, from the bar set up on the terrace overlooking the pool and garden. He nods hello at a few vague acquaintances before spotting Harry at the far end of the pool in front of the pool house, in a tight huddle with Ben and Meredith and James and Julia. Niall heads down the steps and weaves his way through the clusters of people around the pool towards them. James catches Niall’s eye as he approaches, but Niall raises his finger to his lips. James smiles and nods knowingly.

Niall sneaks up behind Harry and stands on his tiptoes to snake his arms around Harry’s shoulders, slipping his hands under Harry’s shirt – gaping open as usual – and tickling at his ribs. Quick as a whip, Harry’s hand is there, pressing Niall’s hands into his chest, as he leans back into him.

“Niall Horan, is that you? You sneaky fucker!” Harry gasps, grinning like a madman as he spins around.

“How did you know it was me?” Niall replies, laughing into Harry’s neck as they hug each other tightly.

“How do you even need to ask?” Harry mumbles into Niall’s shoulder. “I... I can’t believe you’re here. This is the BEST birthday present ever. You’re not leaving my side for the rest of the night,” Harry whispers, and Niall is a little weak at the knees with that feeling he sometimes gets, that feeling of being Harry’s favourite person, even if only for one night. The feeling is entirely mutual.

True to his word, Harry keeps Niall close throughout the party, practically draping himself over him as he greets his guests and introduces Niall around. Harry always gets extra-handsy when he’s a little bit drunk, and tonight is no exception. Niall’s not going to lie, it’s one of his favourite things about Harry. He’s missed having him this close. But he’d forgotten how exhausting it is to host a party, and it seems like they’ve barely finished saying hi to everyone before people start saying their good byes and drifting off into the night.

It’s well past midnight by the time he has a chance to flop down on the day bed next to the pool house, as the dozen or so remaining guests take over the outdoor lounge area, forming a loose circle around the fire pit. Harry emerges from the pool house with a pile of blankets – it is LA, but it’s still winter, and the night is chilly enough to make you want to keep drinking just to stay warm. Blankets are probably a safer option at this point.

And this is Niall’s favourite point of the night, when everyone is all loose and relaxed and talking turkey. It’s the time at a party in Ireland when a guitar would always be pulled out from somewhere and passed around the circle. Niall doesn’t really know the other people in this circle, but he thinks the guy sitting opposite him might be in Kings of Leon. Or maybe he just looks like he could be in Kings of Leon. And he’s sure Harry said something about the girl beside him being nominated for an Oscar this year, although he can’t remember ever seeing any of her films. Christ, he’s normally better with names. It’s probably the jetlag. Or the beer. Or both.

Niall pulls a blanket around him and lies back to look up at the stars, which are predictably rubbish, given the light pollution in LA. He closes his eyes for a second, and when he opens them he sees Harry’s face hovering over him, framed by curls, and a guitar is being rested in his hands.

“What do you say, Nialler? Sing us a song?” Harry asks.

And it doesn’t take much encouragement from the others for Niall to sit up and start tuning the guitar, as he strums out his favourite birthday song – the one from that episode of the Simpsons with Michael Jackson.

 _“Harry, it’s your birthday,_  
_Happy birthday Harry,”_ he sings softly.

Harry rolls his eyes at him as he smiles. "Come on, a real song, please!”

“Hmmm, any requests?” he asks, as he continues to tune the guitar.

“AM!” the Oscars girl calls out from across the circle.

“Well, that would be appropriate,” Niall nods, “but it feels kind of weird singing one of our own songs like this.”

“How about some Eagles?” another girls suggests, and Niall smiles and shakes his head softly. As much as he loves the Eagles, he knows from experience that playing the Eagles is guaranteed to shut the party down, and he’s not quite ready to call it a night just yet.

“OK, I’ve got one,” he says, finally satisfied that the guitar is in tune enough to pick out a song.

“This is a song which always reminds me of late nights in pubs in Melbourne. It’s by an old Australian band from the eighties, and I think it’s kind of about how life is short and our time here is brief,” he says. “And about sex,” he adds. “Probably mostly about sex.”

He starts strumming the opening chords, and launches into the first verse:

 _“I will come for you at night time,_  
_I will raise you from your sleep,_  
_I will kiss you in four places,_  
_As I go running along your street.”_

As he leads up to the chorus he locks eyes with Harry, stretched out on the other side of the day bed, and the way Harry smiles at him with his eyes makes him feel all sorts of strange and warm.

And then, when Harry joins him on the chorus, Niall feels like his heart might just burst right out of his chest.

 _“We may never meet again,_  
_So shed your skin and let’s get started,_  
_And you will thro-o-o-o--o-ow your arms around me.”_

Niall shakes his head ever so slightly at Harry, as if to say, ‘how do you even know this song?’, and Harry just smiles back at him with the tiniest of shrugs.

They continue through the second verse and into the chorus again, never breaking eye contact the entire time. It feels like the rest of the world slips away for a moment, and it’s just the two of them, singing into the night.

“Oh my god, that gave me chills,” Niall hears someone say from across the other side of the fire pit, bringing him back to reality.

“That was beautiful,” someone else chimes in, and Niall smiles shyly as he looks around the circle, and then looks back at Harry, and thinks: fuck it. He puts the guitar down gently, slides over to Harry, puts his hands up to Harry’s cheeks and kisses him on the lips - for the first time, ever.

After a moment he pulls away ever so slightly, resting their foreheads together as he slides his hands down to Harry’s shoulders.

“Is this OK?” Niall whispers.

“YES,” Harry grins, “fuck yes, don’t stop.”

And this time Harry presses his lips to Niall’s, and Niall is vaguely aware of clapping and cheering from around the circle, but mostly aware of how amazing it feels to have Harry’s tongue licking into his mouth.

He’s not quite sure how much time has passed when they finally break away from each other and Harry rests his head on Niall’s shoulder.

“Um, so, I think maybe it’s time to call it a night, kids,” Harry says, grinning around the circle at their audience, and his smile only gets wider when he looks back at Niall.

“That doesn’t go for you,” Harry whispers to Niall, wrapping an arm around his waist. “You’re not going anywhere.”

It takes almost half an hour to say good bye to everyone and make sure the last of the catering staff and bar staff are generously tipped and on their way. Harry goes out to the street to let security know they can call it a night, while Niall snuggles under the pile of blankets on the day bed and smiles at the flames dancing around the fire pit.

When Harry rejoins him, Niall pulls him down onto the bed and wraps them up in the same blanket. They look at each other for a long moment, faces inches apart, both still smiling stupidly.

“How much longer do I have you for?” Harry asks, reaching his hand up to stroke Niall’s hair.

“Not long enough,” Niall sighs. “Just a few more hours. I’m on a flight back to Melbourne at midday.”

“Noooooooooooo,” Harry groans, “are you kidding me?”

Niall frowns slightly and shakes his head. “’Fraid not. Gotta get back, the boys will have my bollocks if I’m not there in time for the tennis finals.”

“Mates over... other mates?” Harry sighs.

“If it’s any consolation, I haven’t kissed any of those other mates,” Niall says, wrapping an arm around Harry’s waist to pull him closer.

“They’ve got no idea what they’re missing,” Harry says, and pulls him in for another kiss, as if to remind himself. “You’ve got no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to kiss me,” Harry adds, when they break apart.

Not quite sure how to respond, Niall pulls him into a hug instead. The thing is, he really hasn’t been thinking about kissing Harry, not on any conscious level. It was definitely not what he had in mind when he flew out to LA. It wasn’t some sort of long distance booty call. He just... he missed him. He wanted to be close to him again. He hated not knowing when they would see each other again. Perhaps it has always been bubbling away, below the surface. And tonight, caught up in the moment, it all kind of just boiled over.

“How did you know that song?” Niall asks, pulling away so they can look at each other again.

“What, Hunters and Collectors? It’s an Australian classic, Niall, of course I know it.”

Niall raises his eyebrow at him sceptically.

“OK,” Harry sighs. “I remember you trying to pick out the chords to the song backstage in Brisbane last year. And I googled the lyrics and downloaded the song. And it’s been on my Going to Sleep playlist ever since. I never thought you would use it to try to seduce me, though,” Harry says, grinning at him.

“Hey! That was not the plan. Maybe subconsciously. Fuck, I don’t know. I think... I think maybe I was scared that if I started kissing you, I’d never be able to stop. And now I don’t even know when I’ll see you again.”

“Well, let’s make a plan. When will you be back in LA?”

“Um, early March, I guess?” Niall says.

“Dammit, I’'ll be in London through most of March.”

“How about... we make a plan to meet at Coachella?”

“Yes! Coachella!” Harry exclaims, his eyes lighting up. “That would be perfect!”

They seal the deal with a kiss, and then another one, and then another one, until they fall asleep curled up together under the stars, or at least under the soft, hazy glow of the LA night sky.

In the morning, Harry drives Niall to the airport in Niall’s Range Rover, and makes arrangements to drop the car back to Niall’s house and get Jeff to pick him up from there.

Whenever he’s not changing gears, his right hand keeps drifting over to Niall’s thigh. Niall had forgotten that Harry can be pretty handsy when he’s slightly hungover, too. Niall shifts in his seat to watch Harry as he drives, a far nicer view than watching the 405 freeway traffic ahead of them.

“Hey, I don’t think I’ve actually wished you happy birthday yet!” Niall exclaims. “So, you know, happy birthday for Monday! I think we’re flying to Bali on Monday, but I’ll try to call you when I get a chance.”

Harry smiles at him and squeezes his thigh tighter. “That would be nice.”

“Sorry I don’t have a proper birthday present for you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Harry says, taking his eyes off the road to fix his gaze on Niall.

“You being here has been the best birthday present I could ever imagine. I mean it. And that was before you even kissed me.”

“But,” Harry continues, now looking straight ahead and starting to talk uncharacteristically fast, which almost always means he’s nervous. “It kind of sucks that you come here and talk about how life is short and our time here is brief and we should just have sex and then not even stay long enough to actually have sex and I know this is kind of new to you and you’re probably still trying to make sense of it all and I don’t want to push you if you’re not ready, but do you think maybe, the next time I see you, you might want to have sex with me?”

“Hmmmm, I don’t think maybe...” Niall says slowly, and watches as Harry bites his lip and slumps back into his seat.

“I think definitely. I think I’ll definitely be ready.”

And they smile at each other stupidly until Harry has to look back at the road.

“In fact,” Niall continues, “I’m pretty sure that’s all I’m going to be able to think about for the next couple of months.”

“Fuck, me too,” Harry sighs. “Fuck. Are you sure you have to take this flight?”

Niall just nods silently.

They pull up to the international terminal and do a quick scan for paps, but it looks like the coast is clear.

Niall presses a kiss to Harry’s cheek, and whispers in his ear, “Coachella.”

“Coachella!” Harry says back, more loudly.

“Coachella!” Niall repeats, louder still.

“COACHELLA!” Niall hears Harry yelling after him, as he walks into the terminal. It sounds like the best kind of promise.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not on Tumblr but I am on Instagram. Come talk to me there:  
> [super.rich.lads](http://www.instagram.com/super.rich.lads)


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